


Between Sky and Sea

by Exalted_Dawn



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Chrom's Dad is alive!, Emm and Robin friendship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, If I choose to sin, MerMay, Mermaid!Robin, Rating May Change, Sunken!Plegia, from tail to legs to tail again, mermaid!au, new lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-05-06 05:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14634921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exalted_Dawn/pseuds/Exalted_Dawn
Summary: There once was no divide between sky and sea. There once was a time when everything was at peace. These were the fables his mother had fed him when he was a child, to help chase away night scares before he went to sleep. And that's what they were, no more than fables. Sky and Sea would always be separated, just like Plegia and Ylisse would always be at war. That was the reality.And not even a mysterious, white haired mermaid could change that.





	1. Fog

Chrom raised the sleeve of his tunic to his brow, swiping at the condensation that dotted his skin and dampened his bangs. Misty, white curtains of fog weaved between trees, blinding him from everything but a scant amount of space around him. He had long lost his way from the original path assigned to him for patrol, but that was a concern far removed from the forefront of his attentions.  

The trees above him rustled in the wind, stirring the leaves and freeing them of dew.

He stepped cautiously, but the sound of wet mud sucking at his boots was offensively loud against the silence. This area of Ylisse shouldn’t have seen rain clouds for another few weeks, when harvest season came into its moon, and yet every inch of this forest wore a fine coat of water. The very air, Naga’s own breath, felt saturated and threatened to drown him with each inhalation.

The hairs at the back of his neck stood on end, every bit of him attuned to possible dangers that lay hidden in the fog. His hand fell to the pommel of the rapier at his side. It was a flimsy blade, but its presence managed to soothe his nerves if only a little.

The feeling that he was missing something, or more accurately, forgetting something gnawed at him, urging him to press deeper into the mist. He couldn’t recall why he strayed from his normal routes, only that he had heard… _something_ coming from the trees _._ But for the life of him, he couldn’t place what.

A twig snapped underneath his foot.

Chrom flinched. He froze, waiting in the eerie silence. He heard no other noises except for those of the forest and perhaps the distant babble of a stream. A moment passed, and then another, before Chrom allowed himself to relax again.

He sighed to himself. Frederick would have his head for this. He kept walking, his pace slightly slowed by caution.

The fog became more all-consuming with each step, hiding even the large spruce trees that surrounded him from his sight. If he continued for much longer, he doubted he’d be able to find his way back.

“Damn it,” he hissed. He’d have to turn back. “Where did all this blasted fog-”

_Between the here, between the now…_

His head jerked up, pulling his eyes back into the fog.

_Between the north, between the south…_

He started running. Chrom wasn’t quite sure where he was going, but he wouldn’t let the sound slip from him again. His instincts guided him, leading him between shrubs and foliage as though he could see them clear as day.

He’d heard this song from the road, or at least something like it. He knew he had. His ears weren’t just playing tricks on him.

His pace quickened.

_Between the east, between the west…_

Closer and closer, he drew. The aria carried across the air, low and earthy, almost as if to lull the forest itself into slumber. Somber notes filled his ears, deafening him to even his own heartbeat.

_Between the time, between the place…_

The voice rose in soft crescendo, threatening to dissolve into the wind. Tendrils of fog danced to it's melody, wrapping around him as though inviting him to waltz. He shook off their pull, too desperate to chase the last notes of the song before they disappeared. 

With each hastily-made step, the voice became more and more… real, it's ethereal call no longer confined to his head alone. It echoed around him, fluctuating between clear and muffled. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized the sound of rushing water.

As though willed, the fog fell away, revealing a sloping dip in the land, where a river had carved away at the earth. The water pooled between the crags of jagged red rock, forming a spring of sorts before it continued flowing downstream.

From where he stood at the top of the glen, it seemed every bit undisturbed.  Sunlight danced between leaves and a luscious carpet of moss blanketed the sides of the crag, masking its sharp points with spongy greenery. The air was fresh and light, and Chrom relished in how breathing was once again made easy with the sudden absence of humidity.

However, he cared not enough to wonder at the sudden clarity.

_From the Shell, the Song of the Sea…_

The voice drifted across the vale, lovely and sweet in his ear. A young woman, roughly his age if he had to guess, stood bathing in the center of the spring’s waters.

He flushed.

She was completely bare, save for the waves that lapped gently at the spot above her hips. Silvery-white strands of hair fell down her back, caressing lightly at the sun-kissed skin beneath. She moved with a type of grace that rivaled even his sister, and she seemed to glow like the moon.

Just as sudden as it has returned, his breath was stolen from him.

She was beautiful.

He’d heard stories about queens and sorceresses, so enchanting that stories of their allure were known of across the lands. But not one story, no word told by paper nor mouth compared to what he saw.

He edged closer, drawn in like a tethered horse. Her face was angled up into the sun, pink lips falling open as she prepared for the next verse.

“ _Neither quiet, nor calm, searching for love again…”_

Her fingertips skated along the surface of the water, moving to the rise and fall of the notes. It was mesmerizing.

He took another step forward. And another.

The woman’s eyes cracked open, squinting against the light. They were dark. Black, maybe a deep brown, but they contrasted stunningly against the bangs that clung to her cheeks. She stared blankly at the sky above, stilling both her dance and song.

Why did she stop? Please, don’t stop.

A strong gust of wind blew through the trees, causing the branches to shake violently as though urging her to continue. She sighed, languidly catching a leaf on the tips of her fingers.

“… _My love.”_

Chrom’s heart clenched in his chest, nearly bringing him to tears. He wanted-no, _needed_ to be by her side. He needed to be there. He needed to go. Closer. Closer. Closer. Closer. Closer-

“Milord!”

A hand snatched at his arm, causing him to stumble and fall onto his back. Frederick stared down at him, skin covered in sweat and breathing heavy. “Milord?! Are you okay?”

Chrom shot up, scrambling back in the direction of the woman before Frederick grabbed him around the waste and yanked him back once more.

“Release me, Frederick!” Chrom snarled, clawing at his captors hold.

“And have you topple over the cliffside?!”

“What are you talking abo-?” Chrom’s eyes dropped down, and widened at the lack of solid earth under his foot. Below lay the river valley, a good twenty or so feet deep, lined with jutting rocks.

“Oh.”

The knight sighed, heavy and deep. “Glad to see some of your wits have returned to you. When you didn’t report back, we sent out a search and followed your tracks through the woods. Next thing I know, you’re nearly running yourself off a cliff! What in Naga’s name were you chasing that led you out here?”

The woman.

Chrom’s eyes darted back to the spring, searching the shadows and waves for the mysterious singer. As though magically, she had vanished, not a single silvered hair left behind.

“I…. I don’t…”

He stepped back, slumping to the ground once Frederick deemed it safe to release him. His head hurt, and his heart was pumping at an alarming rate. “What…What happened?”

His friend lifted a brow at him, eyes scrutinizing his current state. “You’ve taken leave of your senses, is what happened,” he chided, pulling the young lord up to his feet. “Let’s get you back before Lissa starts to worry.”

Chrom’s eyes flicked back to the waters. “…Yeah.”

He took a tentative step, testing his weight. His legs felt like jelly beneath him, but he could manage. As he leaned into the step, something shifted underfoot. Curious, he looked down to find a black cloak hidden in the grass. He knelt down to get a better look.

It was a hood made of…feathers? He held up the cloth to the light, seeing how it glimmered dark purple in the sun. The plumage was woven together expertly, forming a sturdy yet light material. It looked expensive.

“Frederick, come look. What do you make of this?”

The knight, who had been walking ahead, turned at the call. “Sir? Where did you find that?”

Chrom moved to show him, holding out the cloak for the other man to inspect. “It was on the ground near the glen’s edge. I would have missed it had I not stepped on it first.”

He passed the robe over, allowing Frederick to run his hands over the feathered edges. “I’ve never seen this technique of stitching before. It is nicely made.”

Chrom took back the cloak, folding it over one arm. “Do you think it belongs to anyone?”

Frederick scoffed. “If it did, then they were a fool to lose it so deep into the woods. But we don’t have time to go off chasing after some hypothetical buffoon to return his clothes. It’s nearly noon, and we were supposed to begin our march back to the capital after lunch. Let us make haste.”

Without another word, the knight set off at a brisk pace through the foliage. Chrom huffed. It was always no nonsense with him. He chanced one last look towards the glen, but it had been left undisturbed since Frederick’s arrival. He sighed. Perhaps he really _was_ going mad.

Chrom turned his back to the river and disappeared into the trees.

***

Her chest was heaving, straining against the weight of the water. Gills flared at her neck, struggling to draw in breath as Robin tried desperately to calm herself.

Voices. She had heard voices, much too loud and clear in her ear for her own comfort. Judging from their volume, they’d been close, most likely close enough to see her. What sort of idiots wandered this deep into the wilds? Father Priest had taught her that land walkers were cowardly and feared the unknown. So then why were they out here?

Robin counted herself lucky enough that she’d just finished her song. If they had heard her, surely she’d be caught by now. Or, perhaps land walkers just don’t have very good hearing.

Either way, she was left undisturbed. She counted the seconds, each one a small comfort. 

She allowed herself to sink to the bottom of the pool, settling into the river moss and the shadows provided by the rocks above. Even _if_ they saw her, they could do little about it as long as she stayed in her element. Men were floundering clowns in the water.

She watched the light dance across her tail, causing the dark plum scales to glitter violet in the sun. She giggled, swishing it back and forth, enjoying how it sparkled so.

Perhaps this new life would not be so bad after all.


	2. Prisoner

For the fifth time this morning, the dark smudge in the corner of his vision caught his attention. Miriel was already making it difficult enough for him to keep pace in the conversation, but like a drunk man in search of booze, his mind wandered back to the unassuming cloak folded on his night table.

It had been a day since his little encounter in the woods, and even Chrom wasn’t convinced that he hadn’t just imagined the woman bathed in sunlight and spring water. It was only due to that cloak and Frederick’s hour long scolding that he had to believe in what he’d witnessed.

Thinking back on her now, she had definitely been attractive, but not in a way he’d ever thought women to be. The women around him had always busied themselves with hairstyles, perfumes, and powders, but she was something else. Something different. Natural? Real, perhaps. But that seemed ill fitting since she was also so _unreal._ There was something so unassuming in the way she moved that-

“And what would be your hypothesis on the matter, Milord?”

Chrom’s eyes snapped up to meet the auburn haired mage who stood leaning over a table piled high with maps and tombs. Her hands were spread out over an unrolled scroll, where a finger pointed to a blank spot on the parchment. Her eyes drew up to meet his over the rim of her glasses, face perfectly poised. “I’m afraid that I’m rather inadequate at this task, but I do believe this to be the most advantageous route for our return voyage.”

Chrom eyed the map once more. The spot she had pointed out led them through open plains land. “Well that certainly would be the fastest and easiest way of travel. However, with all the bandit attacks as of late…”

Miriel’s eyes dropped to the parchment trapped under her fingertip. “You are concerned about our likelihood for being besieged? Yes, I can certainly see how that might be a point of contention.”

The prince cleared his throat to mask a relieved sigh. He really ought to pay attention more. “Yes, well, perhaps you should ask Frederick about this? If we have enough men with us, being caught out in the open should be less of an issue.”

Miriel nodded once, finding his answer to be sufficient. She neatly rolled up her scrolls and filed all her books into the knapsack at her side. “Then I shall do that. Good day, Milord.”

As soon as the tent flap closed behind her, Chrom slumped onto his cot, back sagging under the stress of standing for hours on end. He ran his fingers through his hair, allowing his head to rest in his palms. Gods, why did talking have to be so exhausting?

“Milord?” Frederick’s head popped into his tent. Upon seeing Chrom’s deflated figure, his eyes sobered. “Forgive me for interrupting during your down time.”

Chrom begrudgingly straightened his back, ignoring the noises his spine made in protest. “It’s fine. I just got out of a meeting with Miriel. She’s supposed to be looking for you with some plans for today’s march.”

Frederick’s brow tightened by a fraction. “Yes, well about that, Sir. Our march has just become quite a bit more…complicated.”

The young lord rose at his retainer’s hesitant pause. “How do you mean?”

“Perhaps it’d be easier if you just came and saw for yourself, Milord.”

 

***

 

A crowd had gathered in the common ground of camp, making it hard for him to shoulder his way to the center to see about the commotion. Iron shoulder pauldrons clanked against back plates as everyone pushed closer to see the spectacle.

Chrom’s station as prince did little to clear the path, and he had to rely on Frederick’s stern glares to get him through the rough of it. The circle of people parted before them, revealing a single wooden post planted deeply into the dirt. Shackled to its base was the slim frame of a kneeling woman, white hair veiling her face as her head bowed toward the floor. Her form was mostly bare, save for a scrap of fabric draped across her lap that preserved only the most base level of modesty. Scrapes and bruises littered her skin, the redness of the welts proved their freshness. The sight enraged him.

Tearing the mantle from his shoulder, he started toward the center. He made to cloak her figure from the curious eyes of his men but a hand seized his wrist before he’d even made it half way across the clearing. He whipped around on his captor, wrath barely contained behind his gaze.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”

Vaike flinched, but his hold tightened. “That _bitch_ ,” he spat, “is a monster, Captain. She ain’t deserving of yer pity.”

Chrom yanked his arm free and rounded on the fighter. “What are you on about?! She’s just a defenseless woman! I thought you were all trained better than-”

“Hold, Milord.” Frederick stepped forward, placing himself between the young prince and the chained stranger. “I find it hard to believe that I’m saying this, but Vaike is right. Do not approach this woman without the utmost caution.”

“You too, Frederick? Look at her! She hasn’t moved once since we got here! What would Emm think if she saw this?” Chrom argued.

The knight let out a heavy sigh. “I understand your displeasure, but I urge you to take a closer look at this so-called ‘defenseless woman’.”

Chrom’s eyes swept past the bulk of Frederick’s armor to the silent captive on the floor. Silver locks brushed at the dirt as she leaned against her restraints. Her slim, tanned arms were pulled above her head coupled together by a pair of heavy manacles. Pointed towards the sky, barely visible behind the large iron bands, were two slim hands. Each finger was separated by a delicate film of skin, just translucent enough to light up pink in the sunlight. However, something else caught his attention away from the deformity. A design, six ever-staring eyes, was painted onto the back of her hand in a purple so dark it almost seemed black. He knew of that symbol.

“T-That’s-” Chrom faltered. “…So she’s a Plegian.” He dared a few steps closer, to get a better look. “I thought it was against Plegian culture to bare that mark on their bodies.”

Frederick tried to position himself more squarely between the two, ever wary of his liege’s wellbeing. “Yes, normally. However, there has been hearsay of a very specific Plegian baring that selfsame mark upon their hand. The word is this person has power enough to split the seas and darken the skies. She’s killed countless Ylisseans, according to our navy. The people under the waves call her ‘The Avatar’.”

The word rung in his ears, hanging a heavy weight on his shoulders. “The Avatar… But the last time I heard that title, it was in reference to…”

“Yes. It seems that the Daughter of Grima herself, rightful heir to the Plegian throne, has stumbled right into our camp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh~~~~ Next chapter I'll be doing a bit of world building so stay tuned!!! As always, please let me know your thoughts or just drop a comment to say hi!!! You guys are awesome!


	3. Interlude: Stories

_A long time ago, there was a time when sky and sea were not divided. There were no borders between nations, and the people celebrated a peace that had lasted for centuries. The sea cradled the land, keeping it afloat, while the sky blanketed the people from above, guarding them from the weight of the heavens._

_High above the land, two great behemoths circled the heavens. Naga, Goddess of Light and Creation, looked down upon the humans in favor, and sewed life into the lands, bringing about trees and flowers. Her brother, Grima, was the God who Ushered Darkness and Destruction. When Naga had to rest Her powers, He would watch over the long night with His Sight and destroy all that would seek to harm those below._

_And so time flowed on like that, the people of the land living happily under the guard of the two Sky Dragons. They built great civilizations and settled the wilds. They made wonderful creations and their numbers grew larger and larger. The humans, whose thirst for knowledge and power was insatiable, set to reaching for the heavens._

_Over the years, humans developed ways to defend themselves against the creatures of the night, mastering the blade and the tome. Grima, who Saw their unappeased hunger for strength, approached His sister. He begged Her to heed His worries, for the humans might one day eclipse even Their own strength. He Saw Their destruction at the hand of man and proposed that He wipe out their numbers so that they may start anew. Naga, however, heard none of it. She adored the humans and their wonderful creations, and couldn’t possibly fathom destroying them off of a silly notion that they may one day turn their backs on the gods._

_Grima knew differently though. He saw that the humans had the power to both create AND destroy, something that He and His sister did not. He decided that He would take it upon Himself to prevent Their deaths._

_Grima waited until His sister had settled to rest and unleashed His wrath upon the land, burning down fields and cities alike. The people cried out, the sounds of their terrified screams shaking the heavens above. Naga, who woke from the piercing wail, was horrified to see what Her brother had done. She descended upon him, fangs and claws bared, and a battle that lasted a lifetime ensued._

_The two dragons were a near equal match in strength, and the lands below suffered under their ceaseless war. Many people died and entire civilizations were lost under the might of the two above. Furious, a champion of the people arose and pleaded with Naga to grant them some of Her power, so that they may help to end this tragedy. She gifted them with a blade forged from Her shattered fang and then steeped in Her blood. This blade had the power to cleave scale from skin and could slice through even the thickest darkness._

_With Naga’s assistance, the champion climbed atop Grima and the two of them cleaved Grima’s wings from His very back. The now wingless dragon was sent hurdling to the earth. The collision sent the ground shaking, shattering rock into dust. The land splintered, and under the great weight of Grima’s body, began to sink into the sea._

_The people crushed below the great wyrm screamed in terror as they watched their home become swallowed by the waves. Among the weeping masses, a great magician rose up. Rallying behind them, the mages of the land cast a great spell, a last minute effort to save the people as they sank below the water. They grew gills and tails, granting them the ability breathe when the air was stolen from their lungs and fight against the rushing currents. Instead of damnation to a watery tomb, the fallen people survived. These people would go on to establish the land beneath the waves, Plegia._

“Wait! I don’t get it!”

Emmeryn closed the book in her lap. A young boy, head topped in in a mess of blue hair, stared up at her with his eyes wide in wander. Beside him was a toddler with light blonde curls, picking at the tassels of the sprawling rug that decorated the library floor. Emmeryn could barely hide her smile.

“Oh? What don’t you understand?”

Her brother’s brows furrowed in the most adorable way. “W-Well… if the Plegians could do all that, why didn’t they just change back into normal people after it was safe? Why did they choose to be monsters?”

Emmeryn released a small, dissatisfied sigh. “You mustn’t call them that, Chrom. They are people just like us.”

“But Father said-!”

“Father was just being a bit too impassioned. Listen, Ylisse is just as much responsible for this war as the people of Plegia. You cannot allow yourself to forget that.”  

Chrom stuck a single, chubby finger into his mouth, sucking on it as he contemplated his sister’s words. It was a habit that he’d picked up a few years back and couldn’t seem to drop. Emmeryn suspected that it had something to do with the way Hilda, the nursemaid, would place her fingers on her lips when posed in thought, but she couldn’t quite be sure.

Standing from her spot on the plush sofa, she bent down and scooped up the young prince.

“You asked why the Plegians didn’t just transform back, yes? You see, the legend goes that Naga placed a powerful seal on the ocean, so that Grima could not return to the surface. However, it seems that the seal affected the people who sunk from the earth with him. The Plegians grew to resent Naga for banishing them to a life below the waves, and in turn the people who followed Naga’s champion, now Ylisseans , grew to despise Grima for His role in the war so long ago. These grudges have held throughout the generations, even though both parties were at fault.” Emmeryn paused, watching as Chrom tried to digest the words. She could tell he understood little of what she’d just said, but his honest effort at listening was better than none at all she supposed.

She stooped down to grab Lissa, balancing her on her other side as she juggled Chrom into a more comfortable position. “It’s getting late, you two. We should get you to bed.”

Almost as if on cue, Lissa gave a gaping yawn, her little toes curling with effort. Chrom pouted and looked longingly back at the stack of books beside the couch. It always surprised her how keen he was on bedtime stories with how often he tried to skip on his lessons. “I’ll tell you what, once we get you into bed, I’ll read you one more story okay?”

The boys eyes lit up a bright blue and he nodded enthusiastically. “Read the one about the Hero King!!!”

She giggled. “But I just read you that one yesterday! Surely you’re already bored of it!”

Chrom’s mop of blue hair whipped side to side. “Nu-uh! He’s even cooler than Father! I want to be just like him when I’m old enough! I’ll wield the Falchion and end this war!”

Emmeryn smiled. “Well in order to do that, you’ll first have to grow up big and strong. And the best way to do that is with a good night’s rest.”

Hefting the two in her arms, she made her way down the dimly lit hallways, towards the children’s rooms. By the time she’d settled the two, Lissa was fast asleep and Chrom was barely able to fight off the weight of his eyelids.

“Hey… Sister?”

Chrom was buried under his duvet, only the top half of his head visible.

“Yes?”

“Do…you think… the Hero King would have helped the Plegians? …If he could have, I mean…”

Emmeryn carted her fingers through the boy’s hair, considering his question. Chrom blinked up at her blearily, his doe eyes misted with sleep.

“…I would like to think so. The Hero King was said to be a very noble man.”

“Even though he has Naga’s blood?” The edge of curiosity sharpened his tired mind if only for a moment.

“Yes, even so. Noble acts are not decided by blood. It is a choice made of heart and mind.”

Chrom was quiet for a moment, staring at the ceiling through half lidded eyes. “Mm…Then, I can too…”

The sentence died off as Chrom’s breath evened out, the boy finally drifting off into sleep under the weight of his covers. Brushing aside his bangs, Emmeryn placed a quick kiss to his brow before standing to leave. “I’ve no doubt that you could.”

She put out the candles one by one, quietly so that she didn’t wake the sleeping child. She left the fire in the hearth burning low, knowing that Frederick would surely be by in about an hour’s time to stoke the flames.

As she stood in the frame of the door, she chanced another look back into the room. The night blanketed the room, bringing with it a silent comfort. The only disruption was the sound of deep breathing coming from her little brother. It was the picture of peace, she thought.

Emmeryn inched the door closed, a soft ‘click’ resounding through the tall, stone halls as the bolt slid into place. Her footsteps echoed as she walked back to the library to finish her studies for the night.

There was a lot more work to be done before she could allow herself to rest.

No matter what, she would keep this peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo!!! Next chapter is up!!!! 
> 
> As for how Robin managed to escape the seal and what she's doing on land, all will be revealed in chapters to come! 
> 
> As always let me know what you think!!! Or Just say hi!!! 
> 
> Until next chap!!!!


	4. Named

The next time he saw her, he was careful to maintain a safe distance. The sun had yet to rise , and the morning was wet with a fog that had swept through the entire camp sometime that night. If the conditions of detainment had been cruel before, then Chrom found this to be completely distasteful. Sure, there were no prying eyes or a crowd of jeering strangers, but the night had been a cold one, ripe with rain, and fresh mud clung to the uncovered girl’s form like a second skin. The modesty cloth  laid over her lap was now a sopping rag that probably provided more displeasure than comfort at this point. He doubted that even Plegians deserved this embarrassment.

“Come…Come to gawk, Ylissean dog?”

The woman still hasn’t lifted her head once since her capture, but she somehow still could sense Chrom’s stare even with him partially concealed behind the jut of a tent. Her words came out in tired pants, but the pure resentment that rung in her tone was enough to force the prince from his hiding spot.

“My apologies. I only meant to check on you. To see if-” Chrom stumbled, already catching his mistake. “If you were… well.” He flinched at how ashamed he sounded, even if the treatment of his prisoner certainly wasn’t something to be proud of.

He had hoped to appeal to her in order to  get her to confess her intentions, but he imagined that approaching with the confidence of a village school boy could do little to inspire respect in him.

Just as he’d expected, the woman let out an amused snort.

“Rest assured… your Highness. I’ve- I’ve never been greeted with so much hospitality, even when faced with my own retainers. Truly, Ylissean manners are something to behold.” The words were slurred by exhaustion, but the blatant sarcasm was not lost on him.

Chrom took another step into the clearing. With each foot gained, it became increasingly hard to ignore the bruises forming around the girl’s wrists and the way her chest heaved, straining against the uncomfortable position in an attempt to get air. She was a pitiful thing.

And surely harmless.

Emboldened by the woman’s sturdy iron restraints, he allowed himself to get within a hair’s breadth of her. This time, no one was there to stop him from removing his body-warmed cloak and draping it across the shoulders of his prisoner.

She hardly flinched at the sudden weight of fabric on her frame, and to Chrom’s surprise offered no words or display of rebuttal. Instead she seemed to sag beneath the pull of it, melting into the folds as though it were a luxurious comfort.

Chrom surged to his feet, eager to retreat before he was caught and reprimanded again, but  a soft whisper stilled him in his place.

“Thank you.”

He knew he shouldn’t look back on her, shouldn’t offer her any mercy further than this for fear of causing both their situations to worsen, but the sincerity in those two words pulled at Chrom’s heart, so  he stayed his exit and turned to regard the girl.

Hazelnut brown- those were the color of her eyes as they stared up at him, seemingly surprised to find that he had caught her admission. Purple scales framed her cheekbones, not unlike the freckles he’d seen on some of the people in town. However, the hue of her cheeks or eyes were of little concern to him as he finally got his first true look at the person shackled to his post.

 “It’s you,” he breathed, almost believing that it was the mist playing tricks on him.

Grima’s daughter stared back at him with the slightest hint of confusion, silently challenging him to continue.

All at once, the guilt Chrom had been holding back crashed down upon him. He’d allowed himself to be convinced that while their treatment of her hadn’t been something to be proud of, it was at least befitting of an enemy to the Halidom. But now, after having seen this ‘destructive force’ sing quietly to herself with only himself, the forest, and Naga to hear, how could he possibly still believe that?

Chrom took a single large step back towards the post, his hand lurching out as though to grab hold of a dream. This was wrong, this was all wrong and he knew it.

A sudden defiance rose in him as Chrom closed the distance between the two, his grip falling to one of the iron cuffs as he attempted to unlock it. The Plegian stared up at him in bewilderment, her eyes darting between the restraint and his face. He was surely just as surprised as he was, not quite believing that he was setting free a general of the enemy forces.

Just as the bolt came loose under his fingers, a shock of violet caught his attention. Six, unblinking eyes stared up at him from the woman’s tanned skin, seemingly flashing in satisfaction. With a sudden ferocity, reality came crashing back on him as the newly opened cuffs were clamped shut once more, fastened in haste as Chrom shot back from the tattoo’s stare.

Emotions flashed hot in his mind as he juggled fear, guilt, disbelief, and disgust in an attempt to understand what had just transpired. He’d been about to free the enemy. Not just any enemy, but a woman who had murdered hundreds of good Ylissean men. His body shook with the sudden onslaught of confusion, and as his gaze dropped to the floor he caught the eye of the source of his misgivings.

She looked as though she’d just been stabbed in the back. Now that her face wasn’t a sight reserved only for the ground at her feet, he could see the tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. Betrayal and hurt flashed in her brown orbs, and in an instant he realized that she’d, if only for a moment, placed her trust in him.

And he had thrown it back in her face.

He coughed, trying to break the intimacy the two had somehow established. “Y-Your name, if you please. I would like something else to call you by than ‘prisoner’.”

His sudden distance had been the final nail in the coffin, and Chrom watched the spark of hope drain from her visage. She uttered an empty laugh, once again allowing her face to fall towards the floor. “You do not deserve to have it. Even if I chose to tell you, I doubt your fat tongue could recreate proper Plegian nuisance. Call me what you wish.”

Chrom’s guilt deepened, but he knew his actions could not be undone. His gaze rose to a nearby tree, and watched as a small bird launched itself from a branch, arching up and flying off into the waiting sky. Free to go where its wings took it.

He hoped the same for her.

“Robin, then.” He stated, feigning resolve. “I… shouldn’t be telling you this, but it has been decided that you will be transferred to Ylisstol to face trial in front of my father, the Exalt of Ylisse. We will begin marching as soon as the sun has crested the horizon.”

Robin’s gaze shot up, her hair flying behind her in a wide arch. “What?! No. That cannot- I must go back. I cannot go to Ylisstol.”

Chrom shook his head in dejection. “I’m sorry but we have already sent word ahead of our arrival. You best prepare yourself for what is to come.” The words tasted like poison on his tongue. He knew his father well. He would not be kind.

“ _NO!_ ” Robin cried, tears freely falling down her face now in fat drops. She desperately pulled at the chains above her head, her arms bending in awkward angles to strain against the steel. “You don’t understand! I _can’t_ go to Ylisstol. I have done no crimes within your border and I’ve done nothing to warrant this- this- this blatant abuse of power! Release me! _Please!_ ”

The woman’s protests fell on unwilling ears as Chrom turned his back to her. He felt only shame for having given her hope when there should have been none. Frederick was right, he shouldn’t have allowed himself to get close.

“I’m sorry, but there is nothing I can do.”

Each step carried him further and further from the woman’s distressed cries, the voice that had easily enchanted him now at throat-straining volume as she begged for release, stirring the entire battalion to consciousness in the process.

Chrom retreated to his tent in the outskirts of camp, eager to escape from the questions he was bound to face once they found Robin draped in his cloak. He allowed his legs to fall out from under him as he collapsed onto his cot, taking in the smell of the burlap mesh of his pillow and allowing the sharp smell to clear his mind.

Had he been a second late in snapping back to his senses, Robin would have escaped and his father would have him branded as a traitor and excommunicated. He’d heard stories of the seductive power of Plegian witchcraft, but for some reason he couldn’t find it in himself to fully blame Robin for his lapse in judgement. She had seemed equally as shocked when he’d moved to free her, and understandably upset when he’d just as quickly rescinded his aid. No matter how many angles he approached it from, he could only see himself as being in the wrong.

Chrom groaned, pulling his covers over his body to better fight off the morning chill. He could already see the disappointment in Emm’s face when she finds out how the girl has been treated. The prince shut his eyes against the image, praying to Naga that she’d grant him mercy and allow him even a short moment of rest.

However, it seemed that mercy would not be a privilege granted to him. When he closed his eyes, memories of Robin standing in the forest, humming gently to some tune he’s never heard flooded his senses, worsening the feeling in his gut by tenfold. They both knew she was innocent in this. She’d said so herself, and he’d only been a coward to her accusations and ran.

Huffing in frustration, he threw the covers from his body and got to his feet, trudging over to the facing wall to where his rapier lay dormant in its sheath. Perhaps working out his frustration towards himself on a training dummy would be at least more productive than a restless nap. He slung the blade carelessly over his hip, tightening his baldric’s buckle with an impatient tug.

The morning air met him with coldness, and Chrom reached to tug close a cloak that was no longer there. At least, in all his stupidity, he’d managed to do one thing right. Suffering through a chill seemed like the very least he could do in all his blunders tonight. Above him, the sky was painted in a watery golden-blue hue, the clouds just barely visible in the muted light. It’d be only a little while longer before the bugles would sound and they’d begin to march homeward.

Chrom took a deep breath in, allowing the crisp air to fill his lungs. He’d apologize to her before they left, and hopefully restore even a fraction of her respect in the process. He wasn’t sure why, but something about the way she’d looked at him, from her spot on the post, made him feel as though he’d made some horrible mistake.

But, that couldn’t be right? She was the enemy.

The ghost of a melody rung in his ears, still light and sweet from when he’d heard it just days before. The gentle curve of her lip and the way her skin shimmered in the sun were images seared into his mind. And just now, the sight of those big brown eyes, staring up at him in hope and wonder- and the softness of her voice as she’d folded under his cape. Father’s teachings be damned. Surely, this was all just one big misunderstanding. There is no way that Grima, the basest of creatures, could have possibly born something as- as _human_ as Robin.

With that thought in mind, Chrom made his way to the training grounds, eager to beat the doubt out of his gut before the long march home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh Chrom. Poor boy is so confused. 
> 
> Another chapter of Between Sky and Sea!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed it and let me know what you think in the comments below!!!


	5. Footsteps

The light danced across the floor of the riverbed, rounded pebbles moving in and out of the shifting shadows. It was… peaceful here. More peaceful than any waters Robin had ever known. In the ocean, there were few places where one could drop their guard and simply enjoy the current. Too close to shore and you risk being washed up on the sands or spotted by earth-walkers. But yet, if you go too far out, you risk losing yourself in leagues of open waters and whatever dangers it hides within the inky blackness that lay only a few yards below the surface.

No, this type of gently flowing current was much more to Robin’s liking. A shame that it was wasted on the Ylisseans.

The woman’s eyes drifted upwards, straining to see if the intruders had wandered off yet so that she could get back to enjoying the late summer air. She liked the scent of it, heavy with wet grass and earth and life. Nothing here smelled of salt or fish and Robin doubted that she’d be missing that scent any time soon.

No matter how much she preferred the river to her home waters, Robin quickly grew impatient with the gentle pull of the current. She longed to test the foreign feeling of dirt between her ‘toes’ again, and she’d hate to waste any times of peace waiting around and doing nothing. With a final self-assurance, Robin decided that it’d been long enough that she could chance being seen. Even if the land-walkers were still there, she’d only heard two voices, and two unsuspecting people should prove to be little trouble for her if she acted quickly.

Her head gently broke the top of the waters, clear drops following the strands of her hair before falling onto her cheeks. She listened for a short while, ears carefully attuned for the absent minded chatter of unassuming company, but all that greeted her was the rustle of forest brush and the lone song of a meadowlark. Perfect.

Robin hauled herself onto the flatrock of the riverside, pushing until her torso was well and away from the water. She steadied herself, allowing the feeling of the air against her body to take her. The gills on her neck pulled tight against skin, melding together until they were little but faded scars. With sudden intensity, the water that sat naturally in her lungs became obtrusive and heavy, stealing her breath from her. Her body shuddered, wracked by violent coughing as the water was forced from her mouth in exchange for air. She inhaled deeply once, then twice, allowing the wobble in her arms to dissipate until she felt sturdy enough to undergo the rest of the transition.

She leaned forward, bringing with her the upper half of her tail. The scales shimmered brighter now, the beads of water causing them to sparkle under the full light of the sun. If she had more time, she would have perhaps taken the time to admire the difference in hue, but her brush with Naga’s Spawn reminded her that time was of the essence. The breeze dancing along her scales started as pleasantly cool, but just as it had always been before, the burning was quick to come. Flames danced throughout her body, setting her nerves ablaze. Violet scales peeled away, revealing soft, smooth, tanned skin beneath, taking on a shape identical to that of the land walkers. Though painful, the switch between tails and legs was something that she needed to become accustomed to if she were ever going to make it far enough north.

Testing her weight, Robin cautiously forced herself upright, her new legs quaking violently under the strain. She tested a step, and then another, the feel of burning giving way to the grounding sensation of earth beneath her feet. Though she knew it was foolish, she couldn’t contain the giggle that escaped from her lips as a small pebble caught in the crevices of her toes, tickling her skin with the oddest sensation.

She moved steadily, picking her way up the hillside as she carefully avoided the stinging leaves that had bit her in her first week ashore. She strode for the tall grasses at the top of the glen, where she’d hidden her featherskin. The heavy robes would do well to guard her against the more unsavory parts of the forest, and if she was going to make good time in moving to the next safe area, she couldn’t waste effort trying to step carefully.

She sifted through the sweet smelling blades, looking for a small, dark mass among the brilliant green of the grass. Even though it was well hidden, she’d made to note its location, and anyone actively looking for it should have been able to find the onyx garment without too much hassle.

And yet, no matter how many time she made passes through the same patch of grass, her coat did not turn up. Each set of measured paces now sent Robin’s heart racing a fraction more than it had been, her calm quickly replaced by cold fear.

Where had it gone? She couldn’t have lost it. It _had_ to be here. She knew she left it _right here._

Robin dropped to her knees, her hands running along the ground in search of her missing robes. Her fingers shifted over something silky caught in the roots of a lion weed, and her attention was immediately diverted to a single black-violet feather in her grasp. She choked on a sharp inhale.

This was her feather. A part of her cloak, she knew. It was too long to be crow down and it hummed with a fading magic that had once been a part of a larger enchantment. But it was only a single feather, not enough to even last her three days.

The woman shot to her feet, carefully clutching the find to her chest as she collected her thoughts. This was all impossible. There’s no way it could have just- just _disappeared._ But, she’d found the feather, so she definitely had the right spot… right? Her eyes scanned over every blade and leaf frantically, desperate to pick out even the smallest out-of-place detail.

But her robes were not in the grass, nor under the bushes. It was not in the trees or caught between the rocks. Despite how unlikely it seemed, her cloak was gone.

She drew in a staggered gasp, hoping that the oxygen would shake off the feeling that the world was caving in on her. She couldn’t allow herself to lose focus, not now. Her robes were gone, and no amount of panic could change that. Her lungs dragged in a few more heavy breathes before her pace finally started to settle. She was wasting time and energy in her hysteria, and those were both something she had precious little of. Rather than freeze up, she needed to calm herself and work on locating the cloak.

Taking the feather in her hand, she drew the last of its magic into her skin, letting the feeling of something ancient wash over her. The breeze danced through her hair, teasing her skin with it’s crisp touch before settling once more. The feather, once pitch black, faded into a light gold white before falling lightly to the ground.

She had three days to find the robe. Three days to make the earth hers.

Now that Robin’s mind was clear of dread, it wasn’t hard to imagine the most likely scenario. Sure enough, after searching a few more paces away from the tall grasses, she found two pairs of heavy set footprints in the mud.

She hissed. “Ylisseans…”  

She widened her search range but she only found the two tracks, leading both towards and away from the river. At that she let out a small sigh of relief.

She could handle two. Two would not be an issue.

Robin allowed her feet to sink into the wet earth, the mud sucking at her skin in a way that she would probably never be accustomed to. But the slime did little to divert her attentions. With newfound determination, she set off into the woods, following the footsteps laid before her.

 

***

 

Robin scoffed to herself as she regarded the solid metal shackles at her feet. The iron was cold and bit at her skin, causing her to wince with each step she took. The miles were not kind to her, as her skin was without callouses and bare to the rigid stones beneath her feet, and the weight of the chains were certainly not a comfort. But even if she wanted to stop, it was hard to argue with the lance held at the ready between her shoulder blades.

She laughed to herself once more.

She had been a fool.

Robin had traded in her tail for feet and had walked right into a trap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER CHAPTER!
> 
> This chapter was beta'd by the wonderful petalsfall and Subatomic_Grapes. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and as always, let me know what you think! I love hearing from you even if it's just to say hi! :D You guys are all awesome. 
> 
> Also as an afterthought, I completely forgot that the entirety of this chapter, Robin had her titties out... Huh. 
> 
> Welp! Cant wait to hear from you all and hope you have an absolutely wonderful week!


	6. Heat

“Please drink something?”

The woman seated in front of him huffed, kicking her legs uncomfortably as they dangled from the saddle. She hadn’t said a word to him since last night, but the fact that she’d managed to avoid any and all of his attempts at eye contact spoke volumes.

“Milord, if I may, are you sure you won’t reconsider letting her ride with me?” Fredrick urged his horse to pull to a stop besides Chrom’s mare. Lissa sat behind him, clutching to the grooves in the older man’s armor as she struggled not to be thrown from her seat.

Chrom lowered the canteen he held aloft, frowning at Robin’s back. His actions from last night already earned him her turned shoulder. But if he relented to Frederick’s requests and let her ride with him, he was almost positive that the Plegian’s forgiveness would be forever beyond him. It seemed that his retainer was the only one who’d earned Robin’s disdain even more than himself.

He let out a tired sigh. “For the last time Frederick, I’m quite sure. Lissa is safest on your horse and there’s already very little room in your saddle. Even if Lissa rode with me, I doubt you’d be able to fight as effectively while also diverting the proper attentions to watching Robin. We’d be far better off in case of an ambush if things stayed as is. If the goal is to keep me safe while also guarding the prisoner, it only makes sense to keep us in the same place.” The logic was sound, he thought. Or at least reasonable enough that it should stave off Frederick’s badgering for a short time. However, it seemed that his ever persistent retainer was even more determined to baby him as of late.

“But _Sire,_ if I may. If she were to get free of her binds-“

“She could do little but give me a good wallop to the jaw. The woman is unarmed and weakened. She’s in no condition to wield a weapon let alone free herself of the bindings,” he retorted. “You saw to it personally that this morning she was outfitted with knots that a full grown wyvern couldn’t free itself of. And you weren’t particularly gentle about it either. Now this will be the last I hear of the matter until we are back within the castle gates. Is that clear?” Chrom shot the man a petulant glance. Normally he had more patience for Frederick’s overbearing nature, but his lack of sleep left his temper in a dangerously short state.

The man in question offered an affronted snort but voiced no other complaints. Instead, he dug his heels into his own steed, and surged on ahead of the company to take point at the head of the march.

Only when the knight was out of sight did Chrom allow his shoulders to relax, letting all stiffness fall from his frame so that he could once again rest more comfortably in the saddle. He lightly snapped the reins to encourage his horse into a steady walk, keeping pace with the surrounding infantry. With Frederick out of his hair, he was free to allow his thoughts to drift back to the more pressing conflict at hand.

Robin was making every effort to avoid even the slightest of physical contact between them, even going so far as to nearly fall from the horse a few times to avoid him when he pushed too close into her space. He wasn’t very familiar with Plegia’s views on personal space, but he hadn’t thought it would be this severe. Of course, his own shortcomings were most likely partly to blame, but from the information he’d been told and his own brief experiences with her, Robin seemed to be smart and of sharp senses. He doubted even the need to put as much distance between the two of them as possible would be enough to dissuade her from freely offered food and drink.

Chrom dismayed. There were many things he’d hope to inquire from her before his company returned to Ylisstol, but, whether it was by her mercy or indignation, Robin’s mouth remained steadfastly closed. For one, the set tanned legs dangling from his saddle was the foremost mystery. The stories all claimed that Plegians had been bound to the sea waves by Naga’s power, but with the development of this budding war between their two countries, so to came the sudden reports of Plegians growing legs and laying siege upon Ylisse’s coastal towns. Before now, the merfolk were either too elusive or his father’s orders too merciless for any Plegians to remain captive long enough to interrogate them. It was only by Robin’s inherent importance that they were given such an opportunity.

If he was going to get anywhere with her, he’d need to start by getting her talking again, and that meant him rebuilding at least some semblance of her respect. Once they reached the capitol, her voice would be denied, and all hope of learning anything about the Plegian side of the war would be lost. His father was not the type of man to hold fair trial if Plegian blood was in the mix, so any attempts to prove her innocence, or at least worth as a captive, would have to be made before they made it to the city walls.

His eyes traced the silvery strands of her hair, watching the way they floated in the afternoon breeze as though held aloft by water. The scales at her cheeks shimmered a soft purple now, nearly translucent in contrast to the dark hue they’d taken on last night. Though her entire demeanor had taken on a hardened edge, there was no doubt in his mind that this was the woman from the forest.

Regathering his resolve, he fetched the canteen and packed lunch from his saddle bags for the third time that day. He still hadn’t figured out how he’d get her to accept his offerings, but maybe if he was relentless enough, she’d eventually give in.

Chrom tapped her lightly on the shoulder, leaning over to get a better view of her face. Brown eyes remained steadfast on the dirt road ahead, her lips pulled back in a tightened frown. Sweat left streaks down her face where dirt had once been, and she’d grown even paler than she’d been at the start of the march.

“I know you must tire of my voice, but I promise to hold my tongue if you’d just drink something. You dying of dehydration would do little good for both of us.” For a moment, Robin’s eyes flickered, her mouth opening a fraction before snapping shut again. Chrom couldn’t tell if she was keeping her silence as punishment or a mercy. He tried again. “I admit that I don’t know if you eat the same things we do, but surely someone born from the sea at least needs water? I promise that it’s fresh. It’s from my own canteen.”

Her hands fisted into the material of the light traveling cloak draped around her shoulders. She’d done that nearly every time he’d attempted to speak with her, pulling the fabric this way and that in an effort to adjust it around her frame. Perhaps it didn’t fit correctly? Did Plegian’s even need to wear traveling cloaks underwater?

Chrom’s thoughts were immediately dragged to the pile of woven feathers that sat at the bottom of his saddle bag. It had to have belonged to Robin. Of that he was sure. But whether she owned it before or after coming up to the surface he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know of any seabirds that wore these type of feathers, but he also knew that they were much too large to belong to any of Ylisse’s native black birds.

His fingers reached into the pack and brushed against the cloak’s silky vane, the feather’s now cool to the touch without the sun to warm them. He’d originally intended to return it to her once things had calmed down a bit, but maybe the robe could be used as a show of good faith and he could get her to finally eat something.

The heft of the garment’s weight felt light in his grip as he shoved aside the flap of the saddle bag to pull the robes into his lap. The mass of black shimmered in the light, giving the feather’s a hue of deep purple.

“Hey Robin.” Chrom tapped on her shoulder once more. “I know I probably should have given this to you earlier but-” He looked to where his hand still rested on her shoulder. The arm beneath lay still, instead of flinching away at his touch as it’s always done before. “Robin?”

He pulled her back a bit to get a better look at her face, and met little resistance as she fell back into his chest.

Her shirt-back was soaked through with sweat and she shivered slightly against him. Now that he could get a more direct look at her, what he’d just recently thought to be slight pallor was actually a sickly blue tint in her skin, the color of a man who had lost his air.

“ _Shit._ ” Chrom tugged on her chin, forcing her to look up into his eyes. The blinked back lazily at him, barely able to keep open against the weight of her sagging lids. Her pupils were blown wide and her eyes rolled around listlessly in their sockets without truly focusing on any one thing.

Chrom muttered a few more curses under his breath. Damn him for allowing his thoughts to wonder, he wasn’t trained for this. Digging his heels into the sides of his steed, he surged forth to the front of the company, nearly running down a few soldiers in the process.

“LISSA! _LISSA!!!”_

As he crested the hill, he could just barely make out the outline of his sister’s bright blonde pigtails against the backdrop of the Ylissean countryside. The beginnings of Ylisstol’s farming towns were just visible on the horizon. They were almost home. “Frederick!!! Stay your horse!!!”

He looked down to Robin, who’s condition hadn’t changed much save for the fact that her head was now curled into the crook of his armpit.

His mare drew even with Frederick’s chestnut steed, pulling to a halt with enough force to nearly knock him from the saddle. Both his sister and retainer stared at him with questioning eyes, the former not taking long to connect the dots after looking between his startled expression and the half-dead Robin in his arms.

She glared up at him with a look of exasperation. “Good gods, Chrom. It’s only been a few hours and you already broke her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo! Another chapter! I actually had this one pretty much ready to go for a bit but kept on forgetting to make the edits my beta readers suggested. Sorry XP Speaking of, credit to both Subatomic_Grapes and petalsfall for beta-ing!!!! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed and please let me know what you think, or just say hi!!!! 
> 
> Until next time!


	7. Drowning

_'Why do you hide amidst a dream?'_

_Robin clenched her eyes shut, turning onto her side in the pitch black waters. "I'm not."_

_'Why swim towards the sky when you have no wings?'_

_The currents pushed and pulled her in whichever direction they pleased, threatening to tear her to shreds as though she were kelp paper. She fought against it, pulling her limbs close into her body and tucking her head against the waves. Her hair flew out around her, pulling this way and that as the sea had its way with her, eventually tangling itself around her entirely. Inside her cocoon, she was safe from the howling currents and the invasive touch of the ocean. In here, it was quiet and warm. If she stayed just like this, she'd be safe. A pure white pearl floating through the inky blackness, unaware of the dangers that lurk nearby._

_"Just let me rest a while longer. Just a bit more."_

_Outside, she could feel the waters tugging at her, imploring her to open up to its violent tendencies once more._

_'Why do you plunge yourself into a deep sleep? Why do you shut your eyes to your own potential?'_

_Robin hugged herself tighter, struggling to keep the secrets she kept hidden deep inside her. Her fingers scratched against the fragile scales of her tail, scattering fragments of purple and black against the currents as they coaxed the truth from her lips. "Because my own potential frightens me."_

_Almost as though those words sustained the air in her lungs, Robin found that she could no longer breathe. Water filled her mouth, choking her with icy death. She tried to scream out in pain, but the sound was trapped under salt and silt. Her tail ripped in two, torn apart viciously as the ocean flooded into her little bubble and peeled the scales from her skin. Human legs pushed tirelessly against the currents in an effort to propel her towards the surface, but she only found that the darkness was swallowing her that much quicker._

_'Why are you frightened by it? You are great and your heart is strong. All you need to do is open your eyes to the possibilities.'_

_Robin trembled against the pull of the waves, her tears evaporating into bubbles as soon as they were shed. Distantly, she could feel a hand on her head, smoothing back her hair in methodical strokes, but it did little to soothe the lightning pain that arced through her body and shook her to her core. All at once she felt everything and nothing, her skin torn between the numbing heat and stinging cold. "No! I don't want to!"_

_'It's time to wake up.'_

_Her shoulders quaked with silent sobs as her eyes began to peel open. "Please! Stop!"_

_'Wake up'_

_She could hear her name being called in the distance, but the waters were deafening and distorted the sound until the voice was unrecognizable. Who could be calling her when there was no one left who spoke her name?_

_'Wake up'_

_She swam towards the noise frantically, pushing with her land body to resist the call of the waves. Her hand shot out into darkness, groping around for something even she didn't know._

_'Wake up, Robin'_

_Six red eyes peered down at her from all sides, bathing her in a crimson glow. Her spine twisted and snapped, bones breaking skin as they arched outward and up. Drops of blood became night-dark feathers as she pushed ever forward, fingers splayed wide in search of even the smallest thread of hope._

_Wake up_

_WAKE UP_

**_WAKE UP_ **

* * *

 

"ROBIN! WAKE UP!"

Her eyes shot open.

A hand grabbed her own and suddenly she was pulled from the darkness and launched into an open sky. Air pushed through her lungs in rapid succession, filling her with Naga's breath and scattering the shroud of death that had settled around her shoulders. Blue and gold filled her vision, the vibrancy of their hue chasing away the remainder of her nightmare.

Six eyes stared down at her. Six eyes that were the color of a cloudless sky.

"Robin?"

As she willed her vision into focus, other details began to fall into place. A mess of blue hair. A worried brow. Lips that moved but said nothing. Somewhere behind her, there was a flurry of movement. Light danced across her face in intervals as bodies passed before a tall window made of glass. Outside, she could see the late day sun making its final pass over the horizon before it changed duty with the moon and stars.

"Oh back off, would you? I told you that you could only stay if you weren't a nuisance." A young woman with bright blonde pigtails stood above her, shoving against a broad chest in an attempt to make space. The hand clutching her own slipped away from her fingers, though Robin paid the absence little mind as she considered the new face. Robin remembered her as the third child to the Ylissean throne, which meant she was still prisoner and the man she just pushed away was likely that infernal land prince from before. Somewhere across the room, she heard a chuckle that sounded of chiming bells.

"Lissa, be kinder to him. Chrom is just worried." A woman's voice.

The princess, Lissa, rolled her eyes. "I refuse to excuse someone who plays at war everyday for getting frantic over one scare. If he can't handle it, then he should have waited outside."

"Wha...?" Robin's voice scraped against her throat, faint as seafoam. Did she...? Desperate to assure herself of her condition, Robin gathered what little strength she had into her arms and pushed herself up. Or at least tried to. Something silky beneath her palm swayed what little balance she had, sending her toppling out of the sick bed she'd been laying in and onto her side.

Suddenly all six eyes were on her. Hands fell onto her shoulders and back, pushing her upward and exploring her body for injuries. The girl Lissa was the most insistent with her prodding, while a pair of long slender fingers grasped at her arms and supported Robin from behind. Vaguely, she could see the Ylissean boy standing behind his sister, words falling from both their mouths that Robin didn't have the mind to hear. Her body ached all over, pain digging knives into her muscles whenever she tried to move.

Robin released a shallow breath of relief. Pain at least meant she was alive.

With more strength than she thought the young girl capable of mustering, she was suddenly hoisted back onto the bed. The blonde stared down at Robin with the same look a mother would give a troublesome child, putting her hands on her hips to make herself seem more imposing. "Now listen here! It was hard enough to figure out what was wrong with you in the first place! Don't make my job harder by injuring yourself after almost suffocating to death, okay?"

Robin opened her mouth to make a retort before the princess' words stopped her tongue. Suffocated? But that would mean...

All too suddenly, Robin became aware of the crushing of feathers beneath her palms. Their smooth, black vein brushed against her skin, sending soothing cold all along its surface. Robin marveled the garment with awe, running her hands along the familiar folds. "You found it..."

A wide smile spread across the blonde's face. "Mhm! Sorry it took us awhile to figure out what it was! This idiot brother of mine only thought to mention it once you were practically stepping through death's door." Lissa motioned to Chrom, who was running his hand sheepishly through his hair. He began to turn red under the weight of Robin's stare, becoming more and more focused on his own feet.

Behind Robin, someone cleared their throat. A woman with beautiful blonde curls stood at Robin's back, arms folded in front of her as she looked towards the Ylissean prince. "Chrom? Perhaps you should apologize for keeping something so important from her for the amount of time that you did? I know you didn't mean any harm by it, but I fear you caused this woman quite a bit of trouble."

The additional commentary only seemed to worsen “Chrom’s” embarrassment, as his light pink cheeks darkened to a vibrant crimson.

“O-Of course. I was gonna get to that part.” Spinning on his heel, he faced her fully and bent at the waist. Though his face was ducked out of sight, Robin could still pick out the pink of his ears. “My apologies for my lack of awareness and delay in returning your belongings. Had I known about the cloak sooner… I promise I would have returned it immediately had I known.”

Robin pulled the robes out from under her and hugged them close. Something was wrong. Ever since she’d woken up, they were speaking almost as if they _knew_ about the Breath-Giver robes. But they can’t know about it. They _couldn’t._ Because if they _did_ , then-

“If I may, Milord. If the prisoner hadn’t been so stubbornly devoted to her self-induced silence, then perhaps this incident may have been avoided.” Robin must have still been sluggish with sleep, because somehow she hadn't noticed the knight from this morning stationed at the door in all his polished glory, practically glinting in the late day sun. She scrunched her nose at the arrival of yet another walking headache. The ire of a devoted Ylissean knight is the last thing she needed right now.

“Frederick.”

Robin watched on, impressed, as the single utterance of a name was enough to make the man give pause. The blonde woman at her back stepped forth, shoulders squared and eyes keen as she addressed the intruder. “Though I appreciate your diligence, it was Chrom’s mistake in taking her cloak in the first place. An apology was due.”  

Frederick looked as though he’d just swallowed something sour. “Of course, Milady.”

Lissa turned towards the stalwart knight. “So...Did anyone see us?”

“Fortunately, I was able to convince the guard into believing one of our own was injured during a routine drill, hence the rush to the infirmary. The rest of the patrol has promised a temporary silence, as well. For now, no one outside of the troops except for Miriel and Lady Emmeryn know about your prisoner. Though I can’t guarantee such a secret’s longevity.”

The room seemed to let out a collective sigh as some of the tension drained from the air. Robin was doing her best to piece together what had happened since she’d passed out, but her conclusions were growing more dismal with each passing statement.

She considered the woman beside her. The knight had called her “Emmeryn”, and Robin only knew of one Ylissean with that name. If this truly was the same Emmeryn, than that meant she could be in no other place the Castle Ylisstol. The only location that she needed to avoid more than her homeland.

What’s worse, it seemed as though they were somehow able to figure out a link between herself and her robes while she’d been unconscious. There were too many blanks. She had no idea how they’d even found her cloak in the first place, or how long they’d had to examine its properties. Even the extent of their knowledge was an unknown, and there was nothing more dangerous than those in her line of work.

She needed answers.

“...How much do you know?” She addressed Emmeryn, careful to keep a firm but respectful tone. There wasn’t a chance in all the world’s oceans that she’d talk to Frederick, even if he seemed to be the most informed on the situation. And as far as her impression of the younger Ylissean royals, Lissa seemed ignorant and Chrom’s previous actions proved that he wasn’t worth her trust.

The woman in question turned to look at Robin with a sort of kind sadness in her eyes. For some reason, that look scared her more than the glare Mr. Stick-Up-My-Arse was sending her. “You needn’t fret. My siblings won’t divulge any sensitive information, and the mage we had examine your cloak has been sworn to secrecy. I can imagine this all must be a very frightening experience...” She stepped forward and placed a gentle hand atop Robin’s shoulder, her touch featherlight.

The words caught in Robin’s throat. Her instincts were coming at her from two different directions, one warming to the woman’s earnest nature while the other begged her to flee the scene posthaste. She found herself unable to choose how to proceed. Another uncertainty that added onto her already dangerously long list.

“We would have waited until you woke up, but honestly we weren’t really sure when that would be… You kinda died for a few seconds,” Lissa trailed off, rocking on her heels as though she was admitting to a stain on the carpet.

“I- I’m sorry, what?!” She looked from one face to another, only to be met with diverted eyes each time. “I _died?_ ”

Chrom stepped forward hastily. “O-Only for a bit! We just barely made it back in time before you started seizing up. I wasn’t really sure what was happening, so after you went still, I thought to cover you with your cloak… As a sign of respect. But after a few seconds, you started breathing again.”

Lissa surged forward, nearly toppling her brother. “MHM! It was like magic! You hadn’t been responding to any of my treatment and you even stopped breathing for a few minutes. But the moment we tossed that bunch of feathers over you, it was like nothing had even happened! I mean, you were sweating a bit in your sleep, but other than that your lungs and airways were working just fine.”

Robin clenched her robes even tighter, desperate for some form of security. Everything was spiraling out of her control.

Emmeryn perched lightly at the foot of the bed. “I’m afraid we don’t have much information on Plegian biology, so when you had a reaction to the cloak, we thought to have it examined. We didn’t think we’d have the leisure to wait until you were awake. I apologize if this overstepped any boundaries.”

Robin’s chest felt as though it were strapped into a steel vice, her heart squeezing to the point of near pain.

“What does it matter to you if you’ve ‘overstepped boundaries’? Soon enough I’ll be brought before that murderous tyrant you call Exalt and you’ll be forced to divulge what you know to him anyway. Isn’t that right?” The words soured her mouth, but looking into the eyes of her captors, she knew it to be the bitter truth. Each one of them turned their gaze from her, and even Frederick’s downcast gaze spoke for his shame in the matter. Robin snarled. “All of you Ylisseans are the same…”

Chrom stiffened, biting at the inside of his cheek. “It’s not like all of us are particularly content with this situation. Many Ylisseans have reason to resent this war even more than your people do. We’ve lost many good, innocent people in raids lead by your forces-”

“Oh, so it’s our fault now?! I don’t know if you recall but it was _your_ father who had an innocent family sentenced to death for something as menial as possessing a misplaced artifact.” Blood pulsed loudly in her ears. She refused to let her people take wrongful blame again.

“It was a family heirloom and-”

“They were tried as criminals and _thieves!_ Innocent children died!”

“But-!”

“Chrom.” Emmeryn stood, placing herself between the prince and Robin. “Perhaps now isn’t the time for such an argument. Both sides have taken damages but it’s important that we remember that no one side is to blame. This is especially important considering the current circumstances, don’t you agree?” She met Chrom’s heated gaze with her own pointed stare, her eyes not breaking contact while she maintained a cool countenance.

A few terse moments passed before the fight left Chrom’s body, Emmeryn supposedly winning whatever silent argument the two had been having just before. Sagging with defeat, Chrom turned his solemn gaze and fixed it on Robin.

“Not all of us want this.” Having said his piece, what little embers still smoldered finally died out. Chrom said nothing else as he turned to leave through the infirmary door, with his faithful pet dog-in-armor following at his heel.

It wasn’t until the wooden door slammed shut once more that Robin finally allowed herself to lean back against the headboard. Emmeryn and Lissa shared a glance before the latter left through a side room, leaving only Robin and the elder woman to share company with one another.

After waiting a moment to ensure their privacy, Emmeryn was the first to speak.

“He means well, but I’m afraid that he still has a ways to go until he’s able to separate himself from such heated issues. Being on the front lines has given him a bit of a skewed perspective I’m afraid. I do hope you’ll forgive him, though I understand even that much is a large thing to ask of you. Lissa will finish tending to you to make sure that there really isn’t any persisting damages to your body. In the meantime, try to rest.” Emmeryn straightened her simple silk gown, pressing out a wrinkle that had found itself across her lap. “I’m afraid the upcoming hours will be difficult ones.”

With that, she spared Robin a fleeting glance before leaving her to her own thoughts.

As soon as she was alone, Robin tugged the robe around her shoulders, allowing its magic to fall over her and free her chest of its vice-like hold on her breath. She took a few shuddering inhales before bringing her heart rate back to a semi-normal speed. Though she’d been polite about it, Emmeryn’s meaning could not have been clearer.

Robin’s time was nearly up. Soon she would be brought face to face with the Exalt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha HA! I HAVE DONE IT! I HAVE UPDATED TWICE IN ONE WEEK!  
> Turns out being strapped into a seat in a giant steel cage flying thousands of feet above the ground for 4 hours is great for making me focus on my writing. Anyyywwaayyyy, I have to thank Subatomic_Grapes once again for beta reading my chapter and thank all of you for coming back to read more! I hope you enjoy this nice long chapter!
> 
> Also I promise I'm still working on FaM but I just switched to a new laptop cause my last one kinda... completely fell apart. So I need to figure out how to transfer all my notes for FaM onto my new laptop while trying to get my old one to at least function XD BUT THE NEXT CHAPTER SHALL COME 
> 
> As always let me know what you think or just send me a message saying hi! I love talking to you guys ^-^

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Mermay!!!!! This is gonna be a multichapter fic, but him hoping to keep the chapters rather short. 
> 
> For those with a sharp eye, you may notice that Robin's song is a translation of the Song of the Sea.
> 
> As always lemme know what you think, or just comment to say hi!!!! 
> 
> I'm excited to see where this fic goes!


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